Gospel
by Thuktun Flishithy
Summary: Taylor Hebert is cursed, burdened with the knowledge of another world filled with horrors unknown. But she has also been given the key to the gods themselves.
**Gospel**

 **εὐαγγέλιον**

 _ _Der Mensch ist Etwas, das überwunden werden soll. -__ Friedrich Nietzche, _Also _Sprach Zarathusa__

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 _A giant of light rose from its icy prison, paying no heed to the insects scrambling at its shining feet._

 _Broken cities, shadows of what they once were._

 _A sepulchral chamber, heavy with the scent of blood._

 _The fury of a mother, the sorrow of a son._

 _Seas of red, lapping at a dead beach._

 _A lifeless face, as tall as a mountain, looking on as a boy weeped over the form of a girl._

 _"Kimochi warui."_

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 **1.01**

My eyes fluttered open, and I sprung upright from the desk I had hastily converted into a workshop table. I yawned as I stretched back, absentmindedly rubbing my face. My cheek felt warm where it had lain on the desk, and I could've sworn my jaw actually clicked as I moved it. Served me right for trying to work without any sleep, I guess.

Pressing into my left eye with my palm, I surveyed the notes I had been working on before falling asleep. Thankfully, the ink hadn't been smeared by my face, sparing the painstaking designs I had made. Feeling more awake, I carefully removed a sheet from the binder I was keeping it in. Most of it was basic stuff, chiefly concerning prolonging battery life, but there was also some rudimentary equations for solenoid theory.

I pulled the chair back and rose to my feet, stifling another yawn. That stuff could wait another day; there were more pressing matters I needed to handle. Chiefly, the fifteen-foot-tall thing kneeling in the abandoned warehouse that was my lab, and what I was going to do with it.

Today was as good a day as any for a first night out as a cape. Dad was pulling another all-nighter at the Docks, leaving me with a window of a few hours to do a simple patrol and head back home before he was aware of anything. Not to mention, the suit was ready to go, at least for basic operations anyway. It would be pretty stupid of me to go looking for parahumans to fight on my first outing, and I could always handle a few thugs. What was the point of working on the suit if I never actually _used_ it?

That was what I told myself as I made my way to the small supplies locker in the corner of the lab. Entering the combination on the keypad, it popped open, revealing my gear. I grabbed the nerve clips first, securing them in my curly hair, then removed the interface suit. It was one of the harder things to make, considering the materials I needed for construction. I two weeks of digging through junkyards and dumps before I had what I needed, then another three day to make the thing.

Hastily, I peeled off my sweatshirt and jeans, leaving me in only my underclothes. A cold autumn breeze wafted in from the outside, sending shivers up my body as I pulled the interface suit on. Once it was secure, I clicked the button around my left wrist. With a faint hiss, the suit tightened about me, hugging every inch of my body. It was necessary if I wanted to effectively connect with the main suit, though I still wasn't happy with how it accentuated my lack of curves.

Running my hands over the spandex-like material to smooth out any possible air bubbles, I looked at my main creation. It was kneeling in the middle of the lab, secured by heavy metal apparatuses. Sunlight wafted in through a few holes in the ceiling, casting a rather ominous light on the suit as the shadows accentuated its inhuman shape. I suppose it was not the most heroic looking thing, considering the almost monstrous appearance it had, but it had to fit the parameters of my designs in order to work.

I clicked a button on the small control console I had constructed beside the workshop table, and the innards of the suit opened up, revealing the "plug". Taking a deep breath, I walked forward and climbed inside of the thing, taking note of how damp everything still felt. The plastic and metal coverings of the suit were thin, more of an aesthetic than anything else, and it shifted slightly against the highly complex biosynthetic muscle as I strapped myself in and took control of the butterfly yokes.

With a start, the suit closed about me again, bringing total blackness with it. A few seconds passed, then the link connect liquid began to flood the inside of the plug, pooling around my feet as it rose to fill up the chamber. It served a two-fold purpose; one was to better help the connection with the suit, and the other was to protect against the impacts and extreme g-forces encountered in combat.

As it began to reach my face, however, all I could think of was how it smelled like blood.

The fluid immersed me completely, and I forced in a breath. Even after weeks of trials, I couldn't help but cough violently as the warm stuff flooded my lungs. There was no risk of drowning, considering that it was oxygenated, but I still felt as though I was. It was that gut instinct all humans had against liquid entering the lungs, burnt into subconscious as soon as they were pulled from the womb.

"Engaging synch," I mumbled to myself.

A strange tingling sensation made itself known, focusing mainly around my back as I connected to the suit. Colors began to dance around the plug in a kaleidoscopic display of light, soon giving way to the inside of the warehouse as I began to use the suit's normal vision. No, better than normal; the sight I could experience in the plug was infinitely better than the indistinct blur I saw without glasses.

 _Alright,_ I thought. _Time to test the motor functions._

I twitched the armored fingers of the suit, then moved my hands up and down. Aside from a slight numbness, as though they were under thick winter clothing, they moved like my own limbs. A heads-up display appeared in the plug, feeding me telemetry.

 _Forty-eight percent,_ I thought to myself. _Three percent increase over last time_.

It would for now. Willing myself to move, I lurched forward, electrodes snapping away as I stepped towards the warehouse door. Though I had planned it for months, I still couldn't help feel giddy.

My first outing as a superhero.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

The sun was sinking below the horizon as I moved down the streets, trying to be as discreet as a giant mech could. Aside from a slight whir in my left knee joint every time I took a step, the suit's movements were whisper-silent, due in part to the spongy layers between the armor and flesh I had added in. The buildings nearby were dark, either abandoned or without waking occupants, and there were no street lights working in the area. It was a good thing, too; the PRT wouldn't be happy to receive reports about a giant robot prowling the streets of Brockton Bay.

I felt almost like a panther, sensing muscles that weren't my own shifting underneath thick armor. It was amazing, realizing the immense _power_ I now wielded; I thought then I could take on anything the world could throw at me.

The indistinct murmuring of voices a street over caught my attention, and I paused. Pressing a button on the butterfly yokes, I activated the suit's external microphones, listening in on the conversation as I slowly crept closer.

"-ing to hit them at Spencer Ave, where they're peddling that new Tinker-drug," a voice rumbled, almost like a growl. "We're going to hit them before they know it, and take what they have. Bring out the heavy weapons if you must; we're not taking prisoners tonight."

"What's the say on civvie casualties?" another voice inquired, more nasal in tone.

"They don't care about the people in the Docks," the first voice replied. "Don't go out of your way, but don't let them stand in your way, either."

Fuck, they were going to start a shootout. Chances were, some poor person out for a walk or heading back home from a late night's work would get hit in the crossfire. Stories like that weren't uncommon in the city, unfortunately.

I weighed my options. Last I heard, most of the small gangs in the area didn't have capes, though there were the odd ones out. There was also the possibility that I had stumbled across one of the bigger ones, however, and that would likely preclude combat against someone with powers. If I ran, however, then some poor innocent could die when I had a chance to do something about it.

Clicking another button on the yokes, one of my shoulder pylons quietly popped open, revealing the handle of the vibro-knife I developed for hand-to-hand combat. Chances are I wouldn't need it to handle a bunch of armed thugs, but one couldn't be too careful. Pulling it out of its sheath, I gripped it tightly and crept around the corner, trying to get a glimpse of who I was up against.

There were about six or seven men in the streets, all dressed in hoodies or jackets with green and red colors. One of them, however, was shirtless. He stood heads and shoulders over the others, easily surpassing six feet in height. His body was bulging with sculpted muscle, and colorful tattoos of dragons marked his torso. Though his head was turned away from me, I could see that he was wearing a mask of sorts.

The thugs were members of the ABB, going by their colors. And, with a spike of terror spearing through my heart, that meant the masked man was Lung.

There was no way I could handle that. I needed to find a safe place to call the PRT or Protectorate, alert them of what was going on. As I pulled back, however, one of the men spotted me. Shouting something in another language, he pointed at me with one hand while reaching for a pistol with the other.

Shit.

The others were quick to respond as well, all of them reaching for weapons. Something sparked across my field of vision, and I realized a bullet had clipped the side of the suit's head. Numbly, I reached up with my - the suit's - hand and felt for any signs of damage. There was simply a small chip into the thick armor, but it alerted me of yet another problem I had on my hands.

The field wasn't up.

I backed away from the corner, trying to think of a plan. Lung and his lackeys already knew I was there, and I was woefully unprepared to go up against a cape who had thrashed entire teams. If I ran, however, chances are they would be able to track me down and get me when I was even more vulnerable. Not exactly the best options. I needed time to think, to come up with a strategy.

That was when Lung turned around the corner, followed by three of his men. More rounds ricocheted off of my armor, and alarms began to beep in the plug as my field continued to remain deactivated.

I backed up against the brick wall of a building, looking for an avenue of escape. Lung advanced on me, flames dancing about his body as he grew. Already he was big enough to stand half again as tall as his lackeys. He was more dragon than man now, plated scales sprouting out of his flesh and armoring his monstrous form.

Out of options, I rushed forward with my knife in hand, hoping to catch him off-guard. As I did so, however, one of my leg joints seized up, most likely from a problem with connectivity. I stumbled forward, grazing Lung across the chest with my knife. Blood sprayed from the wound, prompting a furious roarplanting my armored face into the damp tarmac with a resounding crash.

I wasn't on the ground for long. Something warm took hold of my arm and pulled upwards, hoisting me off my feet. Lung glared at me, reptilian teeth bared as he braced his other arm against my neck and strained his muscles. I felt a pressure growing in my arm, building up as he applied more force.

 _Damn it, no! Why aren't you working?! Why isn't the field up?!_

There was a wet snapping sound, and pain lanced up my arm, nearly blinding me with its intensity. I screamed, frothing the link connect fluid with tiny air bubbles. The pain became even worse as the shock wore away, and I closed my eyes, trying to remind myself that it wasn't actually my arm being broken.

Any concentration was lost when a burning finger jabbed into the suit's right eye, shattering the plexiglas lens and scrambling up the delicate optical tissue underneath. I could _feel_ the countless pieces of jagged glass move about as Lung dug even deeper, trying to remove the helmet and expose. The pain became too much, and I began to black out.

The last thing I sensed before losing consciousness was a beating sound within the plug, growing stronger and more regular with each passing moment. As darkness finally claimed me, I thought that it almost sounded like a heart.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

The waft of antiseptics reached my nose, rousing me from my dreamless sleep. Slowly, as though they had been shut for years, my eyes creaked open, revealing a white and unfamiliar ceiling. Equipment beeped faintly out of my sight, and I realized that I was in a hospital room.

What happened?

I tried to move into a sitting position, only for a sharp pain to jolt through my head, as though someone had stuck a dagger in my eye. Groaning weakly, I settled back down on the uncomfortable pillow and began to test my fingers and toes. They moved slowly, still under the effect of whatever anesthetics I had been given, but they obeyed my command. No paralysis, no missing limbs. I was, for lack of a better word, intact.

Something moved in my peripheral vision, and I turned my head as much as it would allow me to. A doctor walked up to me, a clipboard in hand. He checked the equipment by the bed, then turned to me.

"I see you're awake," he said. "How are you feeling right now?"

"Whuuurh?" I moaned, trying to speak. My throat felt scratchy, and I swallowed dryly. "What... happened?"

"You're in Brockton General at the moment," the doctor replied, scribbling something onto his clipboard. "The Protectorate found you at the sight of last night's cape fight, and brought you in for evaluation. You have a mild concussion right now, as well as some slight bruising on your arms. Considering what happened last night, I'd consider you lucky. Unfortunately, we had to cut your suit open to examine you, though I've told that will be remedied for you."

"When... leave?"

"Hard to tell right now. The PRT wants to question you about a few things about last night. They'll send someone in when you're not under the influence of sedatives." The doctor scribbled some more notes on the clipboard, then headed back to the doorway, leaving me alone in the room.

I closed my eyes again, trying to get some more rest. As I did, memories swirled through my head, yet not quite. They were more like dreams than anything else; it was like I was watching from outside my own body. I focused on them, trying to piece together what happened.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 _Lung snorted, letting the thing drop to the ground. It fell limply, the lights in its eyes snuffed out, and rolled onto its back. He gave it a probing kick, then turned to his men, satisfied._

 _"I want whoever's in this thing cut out," he snarled. "If he isn't dead, shoot him. Then shoot him again, just to make sure the fucker stays down."_

 _They nodded, then carefully moved past him to check out the mech. He turned the corner and strolled back to the meeting ground, taking note of the evaporating liquid on his finger. The scent of the stuff was uncannily like blood, and certainly looked like it. Had he gotten to the pilot underneath? Or was it actually the suit itself that had bled? The arm had given way much like one of flesh and blood..._

 _His thoughts were interrupted by a scream. Spinning about, he managed to catch the sight of one of his men flying through the air. The man hit the brick wall of the building across the street with a meaty crack, then fell to the ground with a wet thud. Blood pooled from the still body, and Lung crinkled his nose in disgust as he realized that the man had soiled himself in death._

 _More screams followed, echoing through the otherwise silent night, only to be cut short one by one as the rest of the men were killed. A few moments passed, and there was a sound of something_ big _moving from around the corner. Lung bellowed, letting the flames blast out from his skin as he prepared for a fight._

 _He didn't have to wait long. The mechanical thing lumbered into view, moving more like an animal than a man, now. Its remaining eye was glowing a fierce white, illuminating the street in gentle silver light, and its broken arm dangled uselessly by its side. The thing focused its glare on Lung, a low sound rumbling from its chest. The hydraulics in its jaws groaned and gnashed in protest, then gave way, revealing rows of teeth as the thing opened its jaws wide. Steam rose from its maw, and the thing_ breathed _, its chest rising._

 _Then, it_ roared.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

"There's someone to see you, miss," another doctor said.

I looked up in time to see Armsmaster walk into the room. He looked like how I saw him in the news, though he was shorter than I imagined.

"The doctors told me you would make a quick recovery," he said standing at the foot of my bed. "Now, for security reasons, I must ask: are you a villain or a hero?"

And blunter.

I felt exposed without the suit on, though the mask they had given me covered enough of my face to hide my identity. Shuddering in a breath, I turned to face him better. "Hero."

"You're telling the truth, that much I can tell," Armsmaster said. "We found you in the street, near ABB territory. Your... suit? Mech? Well, it had a fair bit of damage done to it. We have secured, in case you're worried."

"Thanks," I managed to say.

"Now, I am a bit curious," he said. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen before. The armor and servos involved look mechanical, but I couldn't help but notice something like blood coming out of it."

"Just oxygenated fluid to protect me," I replied.

He watched me before continuing. "Well, moving on, we found the suit in ABB territory. We have reason to believe you were involved in the altercation last night. Do you have anything to tell me?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember much," I replied. "I remember getting in a scuffle with Lung, then something stabbing into my eye, and then... nothing."

Armsmaster frowned. "Complexing situation, then. Lung was found dead at the scene."

I looked up at him. "Lung? Dead?"

He nodded. "It's rather hard to determine the cause of death, considering how little of him actually remains. The leading suspects in the case are you and the Undersiders. They're a local gang of villains, feeding on the scraps left over between the ABB and E88's scuffles."

"Never heard of them"

Armsmaster's frown deepened. "I'll come back to talk to you later, when you're more able to answer my questions. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

He briskly walked out the room. I watched him go, then laid back on the hospital bed, already feeling exhausted. Closing my eyes, I tried to remember more.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 _"You hear that?" Grue said. "Sounded almost like someone screaming bloody murder."_

 _"Heard it, too," Tattletale replied. "Looks like it's coming from a few streets away. Think our friendly neighborhood dragon has anything to do with it?"_

 _"Whatever it is, we should scout it out, see if it's going to interfere with tonight's run."_

 _"Brilliant plan," Regent muttered. "Let's go check out the horrible screaming, that's definitely a good idea."_

 _"Fine, you can take the lead," Grue retorted._

 _"Fuck you."_

 _Bitch made a command, and the dogs moved, carrying them across the rooftops. They moved as quietly as possible, creeping towards the source of the altercation. The faint light of a weak fire glowed from one of the streets, and they moved towards it. Once they reached the nearest rooftop, Grue and Tattletale dismounted, moving closer to the edge of the roof in order to observe what was going on down below._

 _They were just in time to see something huge roll down the street, stopping only when it smashed through a wall. A few seconds passed, then it emerged from the fresh hole it had made, flames crackling about its body._

 _"Well, looks like we found Lung," Tattletale whispered._

 _The leader of the ABB roared, flesh shifting as he grew bigger. Already he was exceeding ten feet in height, and a pair of stumps were beginning to protrude from his back. The flames around him grew in strength, and he roared again._

 _Another roar answered. Unlike the monstrous howl of the gang leader, however, it was..._ wrong _. It was like a man or woman screaming in agony, only toned down to inhuman levels and drawn out into a guttural bellow. An ancient sound, bringing back times long since past, of man's earliest fears lost to the fog of ages._

 _Something stepped into view, and Tattletale found her vision drawn to it. There was an almost human shape to it, though the proportions were disturbingly off. Purple armor covered the thing, and a pair of pylons armored its shoulders. The head was not human at all, however; there was an almost ceratopsian feel to its appearance, made only more beastly by its glowing white eye. One of its arms was bent at an awkward angle, and Tattletale realized it was broken._

/Mechanical appearance façade, _her power provided, filling in the gaps._ Suit mainly biological in nature. Exterior meant for artificial armor./

 _The beast howled again, then charged. It moved with a speed that belied its titanic frame, covering the ground between it and Lung before the latter had time to react. Swinging its good arm, it struck the cape in the chest, sending him smashing into the ground with enough force to shatter the tarmac. Lung retaliated swiftly, blasting the biomechanical monstrosity with a cone of flame, only for the fire to slide uselessly over a field of concentric orange octagons. He poured more and more of his power into the attack, but the field held with nary a flicker._

/Field composed of unknown energy. Field powered by battery packs in pectoral region. Upper limits unknown./

 _"Jesus Christ," Grue muttered. "I don't want to ever cross this thing."_

 _The purple-armored thing stepped back, focusing its attentions on its broken arm. Flesh writhed and bubbled underneath the metal plates covering its forearm, and the limb snapped back into place with a nauseating crack. The creature grunted in satisfaction, then focused back on Lung. Bellowing again, it struck Lung in the jaw, shattering half of his face in the process, then smashed him back into the ground with a kick that was more felt than heard._

 _/_ Creature possesses regeneration rate faster than most parahumans with similar abilities. Regeneration is voluntary action; concentration is needed. Regeneration reuses damaged biomass instead of replacing it.../

 _Lung roared, flames blasting out from all directions as he swiped at the monster with a clawed hand. The blow slid over the field again, however, failing to do any damage. For his efforts, he was rewarded with another kick to the stomach. A meaty crunching sound reached Tattletale's ears, and she realized that his ribs had been shattered._

 _The armored creature grabbed Lung by the arm, hoisting him off the ground, then_ twisted _, breaking his arm like a dry twig. Spinning about, it threw him a good thirty feet, sending him flying into a parked car. The vehicle crumpled inwards from the force of the landing as Lung fell on it, littering the street with shattered glass. The draconian cape rose to his feet unsteadily, continuing to grow despite his injuries._

 _He didn't have much time to recover. A purple blur smashed into him, cleaving the car in two. The monster straddled Lung, pounding him with gauntleted fists. It paused, then reached for a jagged hunk of metal torn loose from the car. Roaring again, it drove the improvised blade down, impaling Lung in the gut. Again and again it stabbed down, tearing away scaly flesh with each blow. Lung struggled to get free, but the thing pressed down with its knees, keeping him pinned._

 _The monster tossed aside the hunk of metal, favoring its hands now. It took hold of Lung's throat, squeezing with bone-crushing force, then turned. There was a barely-audible snap as Lung's neck broke, and he went limp. Even with his power, it would take a matter of minutes to regenerate such damage._

 _It was time he didn't have. The monster growled as it surveyed its work, then leaned down. It took a deep breath, almost shuddering with bloodlust, then clamped its jaws around Lung's throat. It ripped away a strip of mangled flesh, leaning its head back, then_ swallowed _it._

 _"Is... is that thing eating Lung?" Grue asked, shock evident in his voice._

 _Tattletale didn't answer. Instead, she simply watched as the beast tucked into its hard-won meal, savagely gulping down hunks of warm meat as it ate most of what remained of the gang leader. Once finished, it rose to its feet, taking in labored breaths. Then it turned back to the street, and Tattletale's heart caught in her throat. One of its eyes was gone, leaving only streaks of dried blood and mutilated optical tissue running down from its ruined socket._

 _/_ Creature shares anatomy with mammals. Anatomy shares many similarities with humans./

 _It took but a moment for her to realize that it was looking right at them, staring with its one eye. Then, another eye, a very_ human _one, popped into the empty socket._

 _/_ Eyes and teeth like that of human. Creature is based on human DNA. Metallic exterior not armor. Metal plates screwed directly into creature's skeleton. 'Armor' actually _restraints_./

 _"We should go," Tattletale said hurriedly._

 _"What about what we jus-"_

 _"Now."_

* * *

 **X**

* * *

"What's your opinion of the matter?" Director Piggot asked, her eyes occasionally darting down at the reports on the desk. "The evidence seems to indicate that it was her who killed Lung."

"At first glance, I believed so as well," Armsmaster replied. "However, after some questioning under lie-detection software, as well as forensic evidence coming in, I'm not entirely sure."

"Oh?"

"According to my lie-detection equipment, she didn't take any actions to kill Lung. Or, at the very least, she believes she didn't. It's possible that she entered some kind of trance, a blackout period, but even that is challenged by the forensics we're collecting on the matter. There is no blood at all on the armor of the mech she was piloting. We did some stain tests on a piece that had broken off when Lung had attacked her, and found that blood would stick to the material, which means that there should be dried blood on it."

"And, considering the state she was in, it's unlikely she had the opportunity to clean any blood off," Piggot finished. "Still, there are questions that must be answered regarding the case. Do you think Hookwolf might be responsible? Maiming victims is usually his M.O."

"Possibly. If he did it, however, then why were the thugs bludgeoned to death?" Armsmaster sighed, rubbing his beard. "I think we should keep her in custody, at least until we're certain she wasn't the culprit. We should look further into the Undersiders, considering they have Hellhound."

"I'll keep that in consideration. In the meantime, you are dismissed."

Armsmaster nodded, then rose from his chair and left the office. He paused, thinking, then turned down the hallway that led to the examination labs. It didn't take long to find the one containing the suit from last night. The thing was secured to the far wall of the room, tall enough that it had to kneel in order to avoid hitting the ceiling. It was certainly a high-grade piece of Tinker-tech, considering how it seamlessly combined biotechnology and advanced armor to create a well-functioning machine.

Well, _almost._ It still had a few bugs here and there, most likely what caused it to fail and nearly doom the pilot. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but feel impressed.

And disturbed. The thing was almost like something out of a horror movie, with its horned helmet and inhuman proportions that were just _wrong_. Its chest was splayed open, revealing the cockpit within, and he could see bits of exposed muscle and organs.

Sweeping his gaze across the biomechanical creation, it fell on the label for the suit, neatly stenciled onto its right forearm.

 _EVANGELION UNIT-01_

An odd name. He would have to look it up later, see if there was any particular meaning behind it. Perhaps he could discuss the matter with Dragon. Sighing, he left the lab behind him, making for his own workshop.

Had he been checking behind him, he would have seen the suit shift, ever so slightly, to watch him go.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 _I believe that the soul consists of its sufferings. For the soul that cures its own sufferings dies._ \- Antonio Porchia, _Voces_

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 **1.02**

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning forward in the flimsy spare seat that had been brought into the office. "How long has she been at this?"

"It's hard to say," Director Piggot replied, folding her hands in front of her. "From what we've gleaned by talking with your daughter, yesterday was actually her first night out. As for how long she's had her powers? That's what we hope to learn."

"I didn't know anything," he answered. "I mean, I didn't know she had powers. She's been acting strange for the past few months. Coming home late in the afternoon, writing stuff in her room, those sorts of things. She didn't really talk to me about it, but apparently she's been having some trouble in school with bullying."

"I see. You said Taylor has been spending a lot of time away from home, yes? Do you have any clue as to where?"

Danny shook his head. "No, no, she never said anything. I'm afraid I haven't been as probing as I should be, with the issues at the Docks and all." He leaned back in his seat, fidgeting with his wedding band. "Am I allowed to visit her?"

Director Piggot sighed. "It won't be for much longer. The doctors are clearing her to leave, then we're going to bring her over here to discuss something. So far, it appears that she had nothing to do with Lung's death, so that's good news for the both of you."

She leaned forward in her seat, propping her chin with her hands. "Of course, that doesn't mean you're quite out of the woods yet. It's likely that the surviving members of the ABB will be baying for blood after they learn what happened, and that could potentially put your family at risk."

"Is there anything we could do about that?"

Another sigh. "Well, that's why we want to have a discussion with the both of you."

* * *

 **X**

* * *

"The Wards?" I asked, incredulous. "I just got cleared of multiple murder charges, and you want me to join the Wards?"

"It would be a wise move on your part," Director Piggot replied. She shifted in her seat, tenting her pudgy fingers as she looked at me with steely eyes. "We want you in the group, Ms. Hebert. Tinkers always make valuable members of teams, and you have showed to possess a particular aptitude with your equipment. Even Tinkers would be hard-pressed to produce a fifteen-foot-tall suit of power armor."

"Indeed," Armsmaster added. He stood at Piggot's side, almost like a Roman Praetorian at guard. "You seem to a rather wide range of specialities with your devices as well. Cybernetic interfaces, biotechnology, vibrational weaponry; the list is quite extensive."

"In layman's terms, you are a prize catch," Piggot continued. "The Wards program was meant for young capes like you. If you agree, half of your school schedule will be optional, meaning you can work on your suit without the risks inherent in solo work. You'll have Protectorate backing, and access to whatever materials you need for your equipment."

"I-I'm not sure," I said, rubbing my shoulder. "I mean, I don't think the program sounds right for me. I've had way too much trouble with people my age, let alone ones with superpowers. Chances are I'd just be doing some patrols and not really helping with what's going on."

"You'll start small, but you'd quickly graduate to more serious situations, which is a major part of the Wards," Piggot replied. "Considering that you almost died last night, it's clear that such training would be useful."

I shot her a glare. "First you call me a catch, then you say I'm-"

"Taylor, please," Dad pleaded, squeezing my shoulder. "Just hear them out."

I turned to him, then sighed and looked back at Piggot. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Lung's death will have a ripple effect on the already dire situation here in the city. He was the head _and_ powerhouse of the ABB, which means there will be a massive power vacuum that the other gangs will try to muscle in on now that he's gone. Such struggles could lead to civilian casualties, and we'll need as many capes as possible when that particular storm hits. There's also the matter of Bakuda."

"Bakuda?" Dad asked.

"It's probably based on _baku_ , which means explosion in Japanese," I replied absentmindedly, only to pause when I realized what I said. How the hell did I know that?

Piggot cocked an eyebrow. "Trawl on PHO much, I presume? Yes, Bakuda is a member of Lung's gang, the only other cape aside from Oni Lee. She's a Tinker with a specialty in bombs and other explosive devices.

An image flashed across my mind, of a massive cone of blue light rising into the sky as a city died around it. I shook my head slightly, banishing the thought from my head. Was it related to my power, or was I starting to go nuts?

"-the risk of her actually targeting you is slim, considering that they probably know the identity of Lung's real killer, but that doesn't mean we can dismiss her. She might lash out randomly, especially now that Lung isn't keeping her in check. Considering that she has the ability to make explosives decades ahead of us, that is not a good thing at all."

"It would be useful to have another Tinker in the Wards, to help manage the possible fallout of last night's events," Armsmaster said. "We'll give you time to think about, naturally."

I looked down at my hands, thinking. Would it be a good idea, joining the Wards? Extra time to work on Unit-01 would be incredibly useful, especially when I didn't have to waste it scavenging scrapyards for materials. And there was the matter of Bakuda. If my mind wasn't making up memories of last night, then it was likely that they knew who killed Lung already, and would be gunning for me. If Dad got hurt because of that...

I lifted my head. "Could I see my suit?"

Piggot and Armsmaster exchanged a look. There was a brief moment, then the Director turned to me and nodded. "Armsmaster will escort you to the lab. We haven't tampered with it, considering the inherent risks involved, so it hasn't been repaired yet."

I nodded, rising from my seat. "That's okay."

Armsmaster stepped forward, tightening his grip on his halberd. "After me, please."

* * *

 **X**

* * *

Unit-01 knelt against the far wall of the lab, held in place by a bunch of restraints they had hastily attached to the ceiling. Its chest was splayed open, revealing the interior of the plug, and I noticed that some of the plastic covering the interior had broken free, revealing the suit's fleshy innards. There were a few scratches here and there, most likely from where the thugs had shot at me, but otherwise it looked okay. No, better than how I last left; the eye was somehow intact underneath the shattered lens.

The memories swirled through my mind again, and I took a nervous gulp. _It happened._

"Is something wrong?" Armsmaster asked.

"Nothing," I lied, not turning around to face him. "Just a bit freaky to see it like this, with all the meat exposed and stuff."

"Admittedly, it is rather disconcerting. It's one thing to know that your 'Evangelion' is technically a cyborg, but _seeing_ the organics..." He trailed off for a few moments before speaking again. "What kind of genetic material did you use as a basis for the organic components?"

 _The flesh of a god,_ I found myself thinking wryly, only to pause. Where the hell had _that_ come from?

"I cloned it from scratch, using different bases than normal tissue" I replied, carefully measuring my words. "Prevents decay, and makes it easier to work with."

I reached out, gently running my hand over the smooth armor on the Eva's arm, tracing where the arm had been broken. Any doubt that Lung had died at my -no, _its-_ hands had been washed away, and I found myself growing nervous. What if they figured out that I had remembered what happened?

No. As far as they knew, Lung had been killed by another cape, and it was going to stay that way.

"The armor is rather well-designed, I must say," Armsmaster remarked. "With the materials available on base, you could improve it drastically, make it more resistant to damage. I'd imagine you have notes on devices too complex for typical Tinker resources as well, much like how I did before joining. If you really want to fulfill your potential, this would be it."

He did have a point. There were so many designs lurking in the back of my mind, weapons and _things_ I couldn't make on my own. Maybe I would be able to complete my work on the super-solenoid engine with the resources they gave me...

"I'll think about it," I said.

"That's good to hear. You'll be allowed to return home and discuss it further with your father if you wish. Legally speaking, we cannot detain you, nor confiscate your equipment. If you wish for us to hold onto it, however, then we will. I'd imagine trying to transport the thing would be easier said than done."

I pulled away from Unit-01, letting my hand slide off its armor. It was almost _surreal_ seeing it again, know that I knew it seemingly had a life of its own. How long had that presence lurked beneath, waiting for a chance to become free? Was it just a bestial thing, lashing out purely on instincts when it killed Lung, or was it... _protecting_ me?

A firm hand clamped on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. Twisting, I saw that Armsmaster was staring at me intently, a frown on his face.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, just lost in thought," I replied, looking back at the Evangelion. "I was thinking of ways to improve the armor so I wouldn't have a repeat of last time."

Armsmaster said nothing, but let go of my shoulder. I rubbed it absentmindedly, then turned away from the monstrous gaze of the thing, the _beast_ I had created. The full gravity of last night was finally hitting me. Nearly dying, the pain of losing an eye, the horrors that had happened after... a knot formed in my stomach, and I found myself feeling nauseated.

"Are you feeling alright?" Armsmaster inquired.

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just feeling a bit woozy. Probably because of the concussion." I straightened, putting a hand to my head. "Could we head back to Dad? I'm good for now."

"I'll escort you back down the hall," he said.

As we left the lab, I could've sworn I heard something creak behind me.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

I laid in bed, eyes focused on the tiny imperfections in the ceiling. Dad barely talked to me about what had happened, mainly just making sure I was okay. Once we got home, he hurriedly said something about bills and sent me upstairs to rest on my concussion. I couldn't blame him, really; it wasn't day you found out your daughter had triggered and nearly died trying to go out crimefighting. Chances are we would talk about it later, once he let it fully sink in. But for the moment?

I lifted my head, wincing as the dull pounding in my head sharpened dramatically. A rather plain card rested on my beside table, having been given to me by Director Piggot before I left. I stared at it, considering the options before me. If I declined their offer, it would mean a good month or so of repairing the Evangelion, making sure the armor was secure and that I could properly manifest the AT-field in case of trouble. At the same time, however, I would be able to operate under my own rules, free of the crippling bureaucracy and teenage drama that was pretty much unavoidable in the Wards.

Then I thought of what Director Piggot had said about Bakuda. If there was even a small risk of them finding out who I was, and going after Dad when I could've avoided it...

I rose to a sitting position, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. The pounding in my head worsened, but I powered through it as I grabbed the card.

I had a call to make.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 _The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond; and must be polished, or the lustre of it will never appear_ \- Daniel Defoe, _The Education of Women (1719)._

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 **1.03**

Dad and I were silent on the way to the PRT building. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white, and I could see the conflicted look in his eyes. He stared ahead, never glancing at me, never saying a word. Mom once told me about his temper, and how he swore to never show it in front of me. As we were driving that day, though, I could see how close he was to breaking that oath.

Finally, we pulled into a special lot, after being cleared by a heavyset man in a PRT uniform. I was out first, wincing as the wind bit into my cheeks. It was getting colder out with each passing day, and the sky was a uniform white, promising snow. I shivered, hands shoved in my pockets, and followed Dad into the building.

The hallway was empty, save for a old receptionist who made a curt phone call upon seeing us. A few moments passed, then Armsmaster came into view, halberd in hand.

"It's good to see that you've made the right choice," he said. "Would you want to start the tour of the building now, or wait until your father has filled in the paperwork to officially sign you into the Wards?"

I glanced at Dad. He straightened, then sighed.

"Let's get the paperwork out of the way."

Armsmaster nodded. "Understood."

The receptionist pulled out a clipboard with the papers on it, and handed it to Armsmaster. The cape grabbed a pen from the desk, filled something out, then handed it and the clipboard to my father. Dad took it wordlessly, then sat down and began to go through the forms. Once that was done, he handed it to me, and I glanced down at the paper.

This was it. My entire future as a cape could be decided on a single signature, and it could be decided by me. Armsmaster watched out of the corner of my eye, an anxious look on his face.

I sighed, then wrote my name.

Armsmaster grabbed the clipboard and handed it back to the receptionist. Tightening the grip around his halberd, he walked to a set of doors, gesturing for me to follow. I trotted after him, trying not to wring my hands in my pockets.

The doors led to another hallway, which in turn led to a large meeting room of sorts. A bunch of capes were already there, talking amongst one another, and I realized they were the Wards. Miss Militia was also there, standing at another set of doors. Upon seeing Armsmaster, she ducked out of the room with a nod.

Armsmaster cleared his throat, and the Wards turned to look at me. Clockblocker and Aegis were closest to me, while Vista was sitting farther behind.

"New recruit?" Aegis asked.

"Yes," Armsmaster replied. "This is Taylor Hebert, codename... er..."

"Lilith," I finished.

I didn't know why I chose it; only that it made sense. Armsmaster glanced at me, frowning slightly, then turned back to the Wards.

" _Lilith_ here is a Tinker. Classification undecided at the moment. Her speciality seems to be some kind of fusion between cybernetics and biotechnology; one of her creations is currently held in the lab."

"What kind of creation?" Aegis inquired. "Weapon?"

"An Evangelion," I replied. "It's... a mech that I can pilot."

"Sweet," Clockblocker remarked. "So, when are they gonna let you take it out for a spin?"

 _Once I'm certain it won't snap and eat you,_ I thought to myself.

"There are still some kinks in her system," Armsmaster said. "We estimate that she'll be ready for duty in a week, once we also complete some testing. We'll need her to make the repairs herself, with some assistance; we all remember what happened when the PRT techs tried to repair Kid Win's board."

That got a chuckle from Clockblocker. Aegis glanced down at the floor, almost guiltily, and Vista shifted uncomfortably. Armsmaster paused, as though he was reading something. Could he receive news on his helmet?

"I'll leave you to get acquainted with each other," he added, finally breaking the pause. "I'm sure you have plenty to talk about."

With that, he promptly walked out of the room. I watched him go, then turned back to look at the others. Aegis pulled a seat out for me, and I settled in.

"So..." I began, anxiously drumming my fingers along the table.

"Well, for starters, since you've shown us your face, might as well return the favor," Aegis said.

He pulled off his mask, revealing a handsome young face, with long dark hair. Behind him, Clockblocker pulled off his helmet to reveal a rather pale ginger, while Vista pulled up her mask to reveal a girl younger than I was.

"I'm Carlos," Aegis said. "Behind me are Dennis and Missy. Browbeat and Kid Win are on patrol, while Shadow Stalker and Gallant have the off shift. I'll let them handle the whole identity thing when you meet them."

"Thanks," I said sheepishly. "It's... it's a bit overwhelming, joining in so quickly. I just had my first outing two days ago, and now I'm already here."

"Solo outing?" Missy inquired. "That's pretty risky."

I shrugged. "It came back to bite me quicker than I'd hope for."

"So what's the deal with 'Lilith'?" Dennis interjected. "I'm pretty sure that's a real name for, ya know, non para-people. I mean, I don't see people in school named Atom Puncher or anything like that."

"Actually, I think it's a demon or something," Aegis said. "Like, the mother of all demons. Browbeat would probably know, considering how he's always reading when on base."

"Does that mean you can make giant monsters?" Dennis asked. "What does your Evangeline look like?"

"Why don't we go down to look?" Missy suggested. "It'd only take a few minutes."

I frowned. "Are we allowed to leave the room? They have Unit One in their labs, but I don't know if I can see it right now."

"As long as we aren't breathing down Armsmaster's neck, we're allowed around the labs," Carlos replied. "Kid Win spends most of his time there; he's a Tinker, like you. His speciality's lasers, though."

I rose from my seat. "Why not, then? As long as it doesn't get me in hot water on my first day."

"If what Armsy said is true, I think they'd let it slide if it means keeping you on the team," Dennis said. "Now, let's go see your Eva Braun."

* * *

 **X**

* * *

"Should be around here somewhere," I murmured, sparing a glance at each lab room as we headed down the hallway. "They let me see it yesterday, after my outing..."

"How big is it?" Carlos asked. "We're getting towards the heavy storage labs."

"Big," I replied.

"Now, what kind of look are we talking about, here?" Dennis asked. "Junkyard-y appearance, like you cobbled it together? Or does it look like someone ripped it out of some Japanese cartoon show?"

"Eh, kinda hard to explain," I replied. "The aesthetic's a bit unusual, not like your typical mech."

"I don't see how- oh sweet Jesus what the fuck..."

There. Unit One was in the lab, just as last time. They had loosened its restraints to the wall, letting it almost hang from the wrist shackles, and its head was tilted forward, casting a frightening visage. In the low lighting of the lab, it looked more like a demon than anything else, its eyes almost seeming to glow as they glared out from underneath a worn and chipped helmet.

Behind me, I heard Missy gasp.

"Well, I can see why Armsmaster wants you on the team," Carlos murmured, eyes wide. "That thing looks like it could take down a building."

"It also looks like its guts are hanging out," Dennis practically squeaked. "Giant robots are supposed to be cool, not scary."

"Technically, it's not a robot," I replied. "It's a cybernetic organism, with both mechanical and biological parts."

"So, uh, what's the meaty stuff from?" Carlos asked.

I paused. Something told me they wouldn't take the real answer very well. Might as well make a bluff, hoping they wouldn't catch on.

"It uses an artificial tissue derived from basic DNA," I replied. "The basic building blocks. Proteins, acids, that kind of stuff. I run it through a homemade supercomputer that only works to transcript basic DNA into whatever I need. Blood, bone, muscles... it's harder to make the more specialized organs, though, so don't expect acid sprayers or anything like that."

"That's the last thing it needs," Dennis groaned. "This thing already looks like the Purple People Eater."

I chuckled at that. "Don't worry; it can't fly. Yet."

"Lilith is definitely fitting, considering what you made," Carlos muttered, taking a step forward. "No offense, I mean, but this'll scare the crap out of any goon who sees it."

"Well, it needs work," I said. "I need to replace the armor that's been damaged, and see if I can up my synch ratio with the core."

"A bit anxious, I see," another voice said.

Turning, I saw that Armsmaster was standing nearby, halberd casually slung over his shoulder. Carlos opened his mouth to say something, only for the older cape to hold up a hand.

"Technically, you aren't breaking any rules, though I'd appreciate if you didn't prod too much into Miss Hebert's creation."

He turned to me, then continued. "We still have to finish the tour of the building, but then you'll have an hour to work on your creation before your shift ends and you go home. No more, I'm afraid."

I nodded, barely concealing my smile. "Yes, sir."

Armsmaster nodded. "Good. Now, we have a tour to finish. This way, please."

* * *

 **X**

* * *

Thankfully, it was slow day for civilian tours of the building, and I wound up with an extra hour to work on Unit One. Kid Win arrived during that time, and was allowed to inspect the Evangelion under Armsmaster's supervision while I made some basic repairs.

He wasn't kidding when he said the PRT had access to better materials. By the time I finished, I had replaced the damaged armor plates with material even lighter and stronger than before, though I wasn't able to get the protective coatings on before the shift was up. It felt good to work on it again, natural even. For a while, it seemed that we were the only two things in the world, like the rest was just a fading dream.

Eventually, however, my shift was up, and I had to leave the building. Dad picked me up, looking less grumpy than he did in the morning, and we had a nice dinner together.

That night, as I laid in bed, I could only think of returning to Unit One.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 _This private multidimensional self, or the soul, has... an eternal validity. It is upheld, supported, maintained by the energy, the inconceivable vitality, of All That Is._ \- Jane Roberts in _Seth Speaks_ , Session 234.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 **Interlude I**

 **Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards**  
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 **Topic: Lung Killed in Altercation  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Villains**

 **Lurker** (Original Poster) (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

Link is **here** to the article. As of yet, they haven't figured out who managed to kill Lung, only that the end result was pretty gruesome. The PRT's practically closed off an entire street so they can clean up the aftermath.

 **(Showing Page 1 of 5)**

 **pootertooter**  
January 14th, 2011:

After seeing the pictures, I kinda feel like barfing. Were those _teeth marks_?

 **Lurker** (Original Poster) (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

Hard to tell. It definitely looks like someone took a bite out of the remaining bits, but the PRT hasn't found any spit or tooth fragments yet. It might've simply been the result of someone taking a blade to his remains. He'd need to be dead for it to work, though; otherwise his regeneration probably would've countered that.

 **dogzilla54** (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

As a veterinarian who often deals with street animals, that definitely looks like teeth marks. Very human-like as well, judging by where the incisors would have cut away at the meat, though most humans don't have mouths that could swallow a bowling ball. In a world filled with people that can shoot laser beams from their hands, thought, that doesn't actually seem like a far stretch.

Of course, that still raises the question of why there wasn't any organic evidence.

 **mattdaemon**  
January 14th, 2011:

Well, there's always Hookwolf. That'd make a lot of sense, considering someone would need to be a pretty severe brute in order to chew up Lung like that.

 **pootertooter**  
January 14th, 2011:

But Lung and Hookwolf have fought before, right? How would Hookwolf suddenly get the upper hand on lung like that?

 **mattdaemon**  
January 14th, 2011:

Element of "surprise, motherfucka"?

 **dogzilla54** (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

It's possible that it might've been that Undersiders team I've read about on this board. We don't know much about them; maybe they were responsible?

 **pootertooter**  
January 14th, 2011:

Maybe it was that solo hero the Wards picked up? Eve or something?

 **Lurker** (Original Poster) (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

Lilith, actually. From what I've read, it's the name of the mother of all demons in Jewish mythology, though there's scant mention in the Torah proper. And there's not a lot of details about the actual cape, yet. Some are saying she's some kind of Tinker with a pretty broad range, but some think she might actually be some low-level brute.

If she's a Tinker, then it's possible. I mean, they can be pretty bullshit.

 **Miss Militia** (Verified Cape) (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

There is no evidence to indicate that Lilith was responsible for Lung's death. I cannot make any further statements on the subject.

 **(End of Page) (1, 2,...,5)**

* * *

 **X**

* * *

 **Topic: Wards Get New Member  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes**

 **Bagrat** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
January 14th, 2014:

Link is **here**. Yeah, it seems like they've picked up a Tinker called Lilith. No further details at the moment, though.

 **(Showing Page 1 of 1)**

 **GPhillips** (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

Ooooh, a Tinker? Any info on what's the specialty?

 **Lurker** (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

Nothing in the official PRT reports, but some people in the area where Lung was killed thing they saw some mechsuit. Hard to verify, though.

 **Bagrat** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
January 14th, 2011:

If that's the case, then that's definitely not someone I'd want to fuck with.

 **GPhillips** (Veteran Member)  
January 14th, 2011:

Huh. I'm going to have to read more about it, when more news comes up.

 **(End of Page) (1)**

* * *

 **X**

* * *

Power is fluid; that much she knew.

Bakuda shut her laptop and turned back to her work, eyes narrowed. Power was something that wasn't just fought for; it needed to be kept, which was easier said than done. Often, it was easy to simply ride on someone else's coattails, and enjoy the authority that came with it. Such was her case, when she decided to join into Lung's gang. After all, he needed a Tinker, and she was more than willing to offer. It made her one of the top dogs in the ABB, second only to Oni Lee and Lung himself.

Now, however...

Power was fluid; it never stopped flowing from person to person, even if it was only a slow trickle. But Lung was like a dam, and his death caused it to flood outwards, bringing chaos with it. The ABB was already splintering, trying to form dozens of their own little factions. Best-case scenario, she would be the leader of one of the larger factions, but that still posed the risk of being overrun by the others, not to mention the E88.

Worst-case scenario, she would be a prize asset to be fought over, like dogs over a bone. After all, she was the backbone of the ABB's forays into the other gangs' territories. Lung was a counter for the other parahumans, and he could defend the territory well enough, but her weapons were what allowed him to get it in the first place. Tinkers rarely did well alone; something told her it wouldn't be a pleasant experience for her.

Therefore, she needed to consolidate her power, by any means necessary.

She looked down at the device on her workbench. A small tool, one that could insert bombs into people and coerce them into obedience. Already she had used it on several of her underlings, but she needed to get as many people under her heel as possible.

"Mistress?"

She turned to see one of her thugs in the doorway. One with an implant, in fact.

"Yes?" she asked impatiently.

"We have procured more, er, volunteers," the man replied, shifting uncomfortably.

Bakuda smiled. "Why, of course. Bring them in."

The thug nodded with a grunt, and left the room, only to return with an unconscious body on each shoulder. Boy and girl, it seemed, and both teenagers. Their hands and feet were crudely bound with zip-ties, and the acrid smell of urine filled the air. Bakuda crinkled her nose in disgust.

"You tazed them?" she asked, rising from her seat.

"Y-yes mistress," the thug replied, fear in his eyes. "It made transportation easier."

"It also fouled up the room," Bakuda snarled. "Do you realize how hard it is to remove the smell?"

"I'm sorry, mistress," the man choked, tears threatening to well in his eyes. "Puh-please don't kill me; I'm begging you."

"Shut up. It's pitiful, seeing a grown man bawl like a baby. I'll let you live, but only because I can't afford to discard you like the trash you are."

The thug nodded, a look of immense relief on his face. "Thank you, mistress, thank you."

"Put them on the operating tables, and get out of my sight," Bakuda said.

The man did as told, rapidly scurrying out of the room after depositing the bodies. Bakuda strolled over to the unconscious forms on the tables, toolkit in hand. Cracking her knuckles, a wide grin split across her face as she set to work.

First, she made sure they were secured; it wouldn't do any good if they squirmed. Then, she produced a smelling salt from her toolkit, and broke it under the boy's nose. A few moments passed, and his eyes fluttered open. It didn't take him long to realize where he was, and a look of unadulterated terror formed on his face.

"W-wha-"

"If you know what's good for you, you'll be quiet," Bakuda said in a low tone. "Otherwise I'll remove your tongue."

Producing a bone drill, she held it in front of the boy's face, letting the gravity of the situation settle in.

"You see this? I'm going to make a neat little hole in your head, like unscrewing a jar. Then-" she produced a grey capsule "I'm going to put this deep in your brain, close to your hippocampus. Marvelous piece of work, one that took a while to design. Fantastic biofeedback, and I can detonate it at any time."

The boy's eyes widened farther than she thought was possible at _detonate_. "A b-bomb? Why are you putting a-a-a b-bomb in my head?"

"B-b-because you're in the ABB, now," Bakuda sneered in reply. "This makes sure you don't get any bright ideas. If you disobey an order, you die. If you try to kill me when I'm sleeping, you die. If you do something that bugs me, you die. And don't even think of trying to find the detonator; I'll make it _extra_ painful for your efforts."

"A-at least don't hurt my sister," the boy pleaded. "I'll do anything you ask of me, just puh-please don't hurt her. I'll be loyal!"

"Oh, I know you'll be loyal," Bakuda said, smiling sweetly. "And your sister will be loyal, too."

She cut away his hair with a buzzer, exposing a bare patch of skin to work with. Smearing brown antiseptic on it, she plugged in the bone drill and powered it up.

"Normally, you'd be unconscious during all of this. Quick, simple, and I'd be telling you all this when you woke up. Buuuut, I've decided otherwise with you. Same goes for your sister, too."

"W-why?" the boy squeaked.

"Why?" Bakuda tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Because you had the audacity to stink up my lab with your piss."

She revved up the drill, and forced the boy's head against the operating table; the straps were good, but it was always useful to have extra restraint during brain surgery.

"Oh god oh god oh god. P-please! I'll do anything-" the kid began, only to shriek when the drill began to cut through his skin.

As Bakuda set to work, part of her considered gagging the boy. She ignored it.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

She had her men drag the two away when she was done. Humming thoughtfully to herself, she washed her hands of the blood and cerebrospinal fluid, then sat back down in her chair.

If she was to keep control of the ABB now that Lung bit it, she'd need to make an example. Random sprees were appealing, but ineffective. The E88 were good options, but she had a feeling that would need to wait, considering how tenuous her grip was. Protectorate was good, but they were too well protected. She needed a vulnerable target, but one that would cow the rest of the ABB into submission once she disposed of it.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. _Of course._

Despite what the PRT stated to the contrary, there were whispers from her underlings, about the great purple beast that had slain the dragon and tore the flesh from its bones. It was painfully obvious just _who_ was linked to that beast; even the name was a dead giveaway. Mother of demons, from whose loins all the nightmares of the world were born. Such a new cape would be vulnerable, especially in the Wards, but Lung's death had already accrued quite the reputation in the underworld for her.

Bakuda smiled to herself. Yes, that would work.

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _Gospel, Chapter One: The Beast_**


End file.
